Sammy Keyes and the Backstabber
by Cyanide 6
Summary: Sammy's new friend is one of the only two suspects in the stabbing case of a schoolmate. The other suspect? Sammy herself. May contain Cammy and other pairings later. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**One**

Sorcianna is one of my closest friends, but she's pretty much the most mysterious. For one thing no one's ever seen her relatives. No one. No parents, no siblings, no caregivers, nothing. She **claims** her parents' work requires them to travel a lot, but it's pretty obvious that something's up. At least it is to me. No members of the school board have ever looked into this, which is probably a good thing.

Not just for her, but for me as well.

To make a long story short, a few years ago my mother ran off to Hollywood to become a star. She dumped me at the Senior Highrise (where children aren't allowed to live) to stay with my grandmother. Let's just say, if the school board members **did** look into the students' living situations, Grams would probably be evicted, and we would have to move down to Hollywood to live with my mother. Living **away** from my friends and **with** Lady Lana is the kind of condition I could do without.

Anyhow, normally if a friend of mine turns out to have no parents or any kind of caregiver, well, I get involved. At least I did with my friend Holly. But where Holly used to live by the riverbed in a cardboard box, Sorci lives in a house. It's got electricity, running water, and most of your average basic comforts. She also seems taken care of, so I've never had any need to get nosey. Not to mention, I might lose her as a friend if I do.

She showed up in the middle of homeroom one day, with nothing but a name. No background, no information about family or where she lived. Just a name. Sorcianna Ziegless. Mrs. Ambler assigned Marissa to help Sorcianna out the first day she was here, so Marissa introduced us, and we've been friends since. It's not like no one else tries to be friends. Mostly boys. See, Sorci's really pretty. She's willowy, curvy, petite, and shapely all at once, if you know what I mean. She's got floor length black hair, (don't ask me how she got it that long) white, porcelain-like skin, and big black eyes. So, yeah, she's real pretty. But she's also super secretive. I mean, only after we swore repeatedly not to tell anyone would she show us where she lived. She seems to want nothing to do with boys.

Sorci lives in a big Victorian house; the kind I always assumed was deserted. I don't know how long Sorci's lived there; it looks no different now than it did before she moved.

Anyway, basically my friends, Dot, Marissa, Holly, and I are the only one's who know about her situation, and she is pretty adamant that it stays that way. She threatens us that 'If we tell anyone she'll…' She hasn't come out and said what she'll do, but you can tell, she's dead serious. And at first she was real unfriendly, but we've managed to get her to warm up a bit, and now she's pretty cool. Still secretive, though. Which is why it came as a bit of a shock, when one day at lunch, Marissa asks, "Sorci, are you an orphan?"

It came out kinda hesitant, but Sorci just gives Marissa a small smile and says "If you mean in the sense that my parents aren't alive, then, yes."

We all just blink for a minute.

"When did your parents die?" Dot asks.

"When I was eight," Sorci replies sadly. Then she looks at me and says, "Is it really better to have loved and lost, then it is to have never been loved at all?"

I give a small smile at that. I mean, can you imagine Dot, Holly, or Marissa saying that? Not unless they were quoting from Shakespeare or something.

But as I thought about what she said, it made sense. I mean, I've always complained that I had a pretty crummy family. I live with my grandmother, my mother lives a thousand miles away in Hollywood, and I don't even **know** who my dad is. But thinking about this made me wonder. Wouldn't it be better, not to know who your dad is, than to know and really live with him, only to have him snatched away?

I guess while I was engrossed in my thoughts the subject had changed, because I hear Sorci's lilting voice drifting through, like she was far away, or something.

"C'mon, Sammy, help me out here!"

I look at her, "Sorry?"

She shakes her head, and Holly snickers "Some winning endorsement, huh?"

Dot sighs, "While you were off in la la land, we were discussing Sorci's obvious infatuation with Jeremie Belpois."

"I don't like him like that, seriously!" Sorci protested.

I didn't particularly want to get dragged into that, but it was kinda hard to deny. Jeremie showed up soon after Sorci did, but since he's in all honors classes, I don't know him that well. What I do know is that he's tiny, and a genius. He's a year younger than me, and if you listen to Sorci, you'd think he could graduate from Berkeley, the way she goes on about him. I don't get what she ever saw in him. He small, for one thing. He'd have trouble looking an eight-year-old in the eye. And real fragile to, like a puff of wind could blow him over. And pale. Not white, like Sorci, but real pale, as if he hadn't eaten for weeks.

Really, the one thing I could see that would make a girl like him would be his eyes. They're big. Really big. Marissa and I joke that he wears glasses because they don't make contact lenses big enough to cover them. They're also blue. Startlingly blue. Bright blue.

So, yeah, he's got real pretty eyes, but I don't think that's why him and Sorci are friends. It's strange. She's said that she's never met him before he came to the school. He knows nothing about Sorci's past, or where she lives, or her family, or… anything. He just seemed to take a liking to her and her to him.

"Uh, I don't think Sorci likes Jeremie," I say, still trying to figure out how the conversation went from her parents to Jeremie so quickly.

"Gee, thanks Sammy," Sorci snorts, rolling her eyes. "I'll remember that, next time you need **me** to stick up for **you**."

Marissa rolls her eyes, "Well," she says, smirking. "Did you find out what he wanted yesterday?"

Sorci raises an eyebrow. "Did he ask for me?"

"Nah," Marissa pops a French fry into her mouth. "He stopped by your place yesterday."

You could have cut the silence with a knife. Sorci's white skin got paler, and her big eyes got bigger. When she finally speaks, her words are dripping with fury, "He stopped by my house?" She hisses at Marissa.

Marissa tries to backtrack, "Well maybe not, I-I was on my way to the mall and saw him knocking on your door, and calling your name, but maybe he was doing something else and it just happened to **sound** like your name from across the street and…" she sputters to a stop. "I didn't tell," she says.

"Me neither."

"It wasn't me."

"Don't look at me."

While we're all stating our innocence, Sorci's just staring past us, a look of horror and rage on her face. She stands up and stalks off to find Jeremie, but you can tell, it isn't to find out what it is he wanted to tell her. She's mad. I've thought before that Sorci would be a stupid person to seriously tick off. I mean, it's not like she's violently unstable, but she can be a bit rash, and when she is, she's more then less violent. She's got a couple suspensions and a whole lot of detentions under her belt.

"Wow," Holly whispers. "I wouldn't want to be Jeremie. Wonder how he found out."

I was more worried about him than I let on. Sorci's strong and Jeremie's a bit of a wimp. He'd probably get a concussion if she slapped him.

"There they go." Marissa points, and I see Sorci dragging a nervous looking Jeremie out of the cafeteria. They walk a bit before Sorci pulls open a janitor's closet door and pulls Jeremie in.

"Do you think she'll lock him in there, until he promises not to tell?" Dot suggests, peering over my shoulder.

Marissa shrugged, "Whatever, Jeremie obviously likes Sorci, he'll probably promise in no time."

A minute later, Sorci darts out of the closet, looking freaked. She glances from side to side, then tears away.

I wait a few minutes, before deciding to check if Jeremie's okay. So I excuse myself and head over to the closet. When I try the handle, I find it unlocked, so I go in. It's dark so I click the little light on. It doesn't help much, but soon my eyes have adjusted. But when they did, I was wishing they hadn't.

There, lying on the floor in front of my, was Jeremie Belpois. Lying on his back, eyes closed, in a pool of blood, with the hilt of a knife, buried in his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

I felt all of the air rush out of my lungs, like I had just been hit in the stomach. This couldn't be. It felt like some sick joke was being played on me. I looked down again, and felt a wave of lightheadedness and nausea sweep over me. This was no joke. For a minute I just stood there, stupidly. The next minute I tore out of there. Two girls standing near the closet stared at me as I dashed past. I ran until I saw what I was looking for. A boy, texting on his cell phone. Without even pausing to explain myself I tackle him, grab his phone, and in no time flat, I've dialed an ambulance.

"What the hell?" The boy yells, but I'm not listening.

"This is 911," the lady on the other end is saying.

"I need help! An ambulance! Quick! Oh God, please hurry! You need to hurry! Oh my God! Oh my **God**! Hurry, I-I think he was stabbed!"

All the while the lady is saying "Okay calm down. An ambulance **is** on the way. Calm down." And when I say the part about him being stabbed, she asks me. "Can you tell me **who** stabbed him?"

Now really, I didn't care. Maybe I should have, but I didn't. The only important thing was that Jeremie get to the hospital as soon as possible, even though I was sure that it was too late. Thinking about that made me feel sick, so I just kept gibbering "I don't know, just hurry! Please!"

Now while this is happening the guy I took the phone from is staring at me. Finally what I'm saying sinks in, and he starts asking me, "Dude, what are you talking about? Who was stabbed? Are you seriously calling an ambulance?"

At this point I hear sirens, but I'm still gibbering into the phone, "Hurry!"

Then the lady says, "An ambulance should be there, but you have to show them where. Can you do that?"

I nod, then click the phone shut and run over to where the ambulance sirens are coming from. I try to think stupid things, like "Boy was that stupid, nodding over a phone, she must have thought I had hung up on her" and "I wonder why there is more than one ambulance here," because I can hear more sirens filling the air. I was trying to keep my mind off of what was actually happening, when I ran outside and saw all these emergency vehicles out there. I was kinda surprised. I knew why the ambulance was there, but what was with all those police cars? Anyhow, I tear over to the ambulance, where the driver is talking to our vice-principal, Mr. Caan.

"Over here!" I call. They all look at me, so I call, "I know where he is!" Well, I guess they weren't having very much luck figuring out what they were doing here with Mr. Caan, because the instant they here that I might have some info, three guys with a stretcher come over to me. So I call "Follow me!" and barrel out of there. Soon we're back at the closet, and the two girls who were staring at me earlier are still there, gabbing. I point at the closet, so two of the men go over and open, while the third shoes the girls away. I sit down against the wall a few feet away, with my eyes shut, but I can still hear the ambulance guys working. Can still hear the students all gather around, whispering and talking. Can still hear the men hurry off with Jeremie.

So I focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I keep my eyes closed for a little while longer, before I open them. When I look around, I notice that there still students gathered around. I see that the closet door is closed, and has been taped off. A policeman I have never seen before is standing in front, waving the kids away.

I stand up and begin running. To where, I don't care. I just wanted **out** of there.

But when I got outside I saw that police were surrounding the area. At first this made no sense to me, but then I realized. Someone had been stabbed. This was a crime.

"Sammy!" Someone was calling. "Sammy! There you are."

I looked up to see Marissa running toward me.

"Sammy, what happened? Was that Jeremie? Where's Sorci? Are-are you alright?"

No, I wasn't. I was freaked. Freaked, sick, and terrified. I just look at Marissa with my mouth slightly open, tears streaming down my face.

"I don't-I-I…" My voice trails off.

"Sammy, it's okay, it's okay," she tells me, even though it's obvious that it's not. "Don't worry."

"Excuse me, are you Samantha Keyes?" Came a voice from behind me. I turn to see a policeman walking toward me. I nod.

"You're wanted down at the station," he said.

"For what?" Marissa asks.

He looks at her. "Are you somehow connected to this girl?"

Now, the way he says 'this girl' is really incriminating, but I was too freaked to think anything of it. Marissa, however, did think. "Just a friend."

"A **close** friend?"

Marissa shakes her head. The police nods, "Then I'll just take her. Thank you." He motions at me, and I walk toward him.

Soon he's walked me to his car, and I'm strapped in back. As he starts driving my brain finally starts working. A little.

I start to think. Jeremie, little Jeremie, was dead. Okay, the impossibility of that was too incomprehensible, so I set that aside for now, trying to focus. Someone had stabbed him. Okay, that wasn't so hard; the only person who had gone in the closet was Sorci. So… Sorci stabbed Jeremie? Too incomprehensible. I was being taken to the police station. Probably to be questioned.

But… If I was going to be questioned, then I wouldn't be in the back seat like a criminal. So why…

Then it hits me. No, Sorci had not been the only person in the closet. She went in, ran out, and then who went in later?

Me.

I felt sick all over again. Someone I knew was dead, his best friend (and one of mine) had killed him, and I was a top suspect.

"Um, excuse me?" I call up to the police driving.

He ignores me, so I sit and ponder. I couldn't have done it; I was the one who had called the police. But, they could reason that I had gotten cold feet and backed out. I thought about this, trying to find a way that I could prove myself innocent. And what about Sorci? Had they brought her to the station? Did they even know where she was? I hadn't thought to look for her after I'd found… him. Then I realize that they hadn't given me the right to remain silent and all of that. So… maybe they hadn't come to that conclusion? Or, maybe this cop just wasn't very good. We did live in Santa Martina after all.

Soon we were pulling into the station. The police came around and opened the door.

"Alright," he says. "Step out. Keep your hands where I can see them."

I step out, shaking.

"Come with me."

I follow him through the station, into a room where there were cells lining one wall. He opens one door and pushes me in.

"Wait! You can't just lock me in here."

He turns to me. "Until we find out who committed the crime, you're gonna have to stay in here."

My mind is reeling. "But-but-but I'm not the only suspect, am I?"

He looks at me, as if calculating whether to answer or not. Then he says, "Who else should be a suspect?"

I take a deep breath. Normally I'm the last person who would point a finger at anyone who was breaking the law. Especially if it's a friend. But, this was different. A completely different story.

I nod. "Sorcianna Ziegless. She is-was a friend of mine. She went in the closet before me." I could've stopped there, but I didn't want to appear as if I was hiding anything. "She had been angry at him. He had- he had…" I paused. "He had found out where she lived. She had tried to keep it a secret, but he somehow found out." The policeman looked at me for a minute. "That may be, but until we're sure you're going to stay in here."

He closed the cell door and locked it behind him.

I just stayed quiet, trying to sort out my scattered thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

A few hours later, a policeman walked in with Sorci, her face a stony mask. He put her into the cell across from me.

"Sorci," I whisper.

No response.

"Sorci, you have to believe me, I didn't tell anyone. Please tell them I'm not guilty."

No response.

I sigh, feeling sick to my stomach. The way I reason, they couldn't hold me here for to much longer. Sorci's somewhat aggressive record at school could hardly go unnoticed.

I hear the door open, and when I look up, I see the policeman enter with Marissa.

"You can talk to them for five minutes. That's all I'm allowing." He turns and leaves.

Marissa looks a me. Her eyes are rimmed red, like she'd been crying. "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't do it."

I look her in the eye. "Marissa, I swear, I never touched him." My eyes involuntarily well up with tears. "How could you even **think** I would? How could you think I **killed** someone?"

She blinks at me, before shaking. "Oh Sammy. You didn't- I mean, Sorci, didn't kill anyone. The paramedics say they were able to stable him, somewhat. He's in some kinda coma right now."

Well, let me tell you, that makes me feel loads better. Just the fact that Jeremie isn't dead makes me feel tons better.

Now I can focus on the other problem. That I'm still a suspect.

I let out a big sigh.

"Speaking of Sorci, did they find her?"

I point to the cell across.

Marissa jumps when she sees Sorci.

"Don't bother talking, she won't say anything."

She frowns and turns back to me. "I'm sorry I denied being your friend back there. I was just really confused."

"It's fine. Heck, **I** was confused."

"All the kids are asking what's going on. I told Holly and Dot what I knew, and then I told Billy and Casey when they asked."

"Did they- did they think I did it?" I ask, hardly able to listen to the answer.

Marissa looks apologetic. "They were really unsure of what to think. Both Holly and Dot wanted to get your story before they decided. Billy didn't have much to say, he didn't really want to talk about it, and his parents were there to pick him up. Casey didn't think you did it. He actually got really mad when we said we weren't sure. He said he was gonna go straight down to the station to tell the cops that no way was it you, but just then his mother pulled up." Marissa grimaces. "She heard the news from Heather, and, apparently both think you're a wannabe murderer. She yelled at Casey, telling him he was never going to see you again, and screamed something about capital punishment. Then she dragged him into the car and drove off." She sighs. "I'll see if I can help him get away, to come visit you."

I just listen, letting this all soak in. I understand Holly and Dot's reaction. It would be as if I had to choose between them. Billy's reaction was also understandable. And I'm so glad Casey never blamed me.

"Are they going to come? Casey and Holly and Dot and Billy?"

"They should," Marissa replies. She glances over at Sorci, then whispers, "Do you really think Sorci stabbed him? I can't believe that." Marissa looks really upset. "But, I know it's not you. I hope they figure everything out."

"Marissa, I'm confused. How do they know no one went in the closet before me or after me? **I** know that it was Sorci, but I, theoretically, could have been pranking the cops and then someone happened to go in and attack him."

"Apparently Trinity Jackson and Tammy Windsor were talking right by the closet. They saw Sorci drag Jeremie in, then you went in, and then the police. No one else went in the closet, so you two are the only suspects."

The door to the main part of the police station opens.

"Alright, your time's up," says the policeman coming in.

Marissa looks at me. "The others will stop by soon. I promise."

I nod and she leaves.

I'm actually feeling much better at this point. No one died. Marissa and Casey both believe that I'm innocent, and for once, **I** have the more believable story. As soon as Jeremie wakes up, he'll be able to testify, and I'll be free.

The biggest damper on my relief is the fact that one of my best friends is an attempted murderer, but I'll try and mentally sort that out later.

Later that evening Dot and Holly stop by. They here my story, and then try to talk to Sorci, but she just sat on her bed, facing the wall, completely impassive. So, since she wasn't exactly offering a winning endorsement, they agreed that I was innocent.

Then Holly told me that Marissa had told Grams what had happened, and that she'd be stopping by here as soon as she could.

I frown at this. "Why hasn't she come already?"

Holly hesitates, turning to Dot. "Well," Dot starts, "she took it pretty badly. She was like, sorta, in shock. She was really freaked that you had been hanging out with someone that 'mentally unbalanced'."

"She'll probably see you tomorrow," Holly adds, apologetically. "Visiting hours are almost over, so she probably couldn't make it anyway."

"Alright girls, your time's up." I look over as someone walked in. They had two trays of food. It's not until now that I realize I'll be spending the night here.

Holly and Dot look at me.

"We'll be back tomorrow, promise." They start to leave.

"Wait!" I call. "Is Casey coming?"

They exchange glances. "I haven't heard anything from him," Holly says. "I'll see what I can find out."

And then they're gone.

I pick through my meal, which is as gross as you would expect meals for a convict to be, and then I try to get some sleep.

I'm looking forward to sorting my story out with Grams and Casey tomorrow, but for now, all I can do is sleep. And, to tell you the truth, I'm actually exhausted.

The next morning Grams comes in as soon as visiting hours are open. First, she demands the truth.

"And no leaving parts out."

"Grams, there's not even that much to the story."

After I finish, she nods.

"I expected as much. Well, they can't keep you in here too much longer. All the evidence is pointing at that other girl, eventually they have to free you." She harrumphs. "I can't believe their not posting bail. If they were, I'd get you out of there instantly."

I smile, glad that she believed me the first time. There have been times in the past where she hadn't, and, believe me, those had not been fun times.

Then she had to leave because her time was up, and I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Right after lunch had come, Billy visited.

I immediately told him my story, and then, like the others, he tried, unsuccessfully to ask Sorci her side.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first," he says.

"It's fine. I don't blame you, actually."

"Yeah, but I blamed you, sorta. I hadn't made up my mind."

I pause, before asking, "Do you know if Casey's coming?"

Billy hesitates. "Well… I **did** sorta talk to him, as soon as I got home, but he said-" Billy pauses, uncertainly.

"Go on," I urge him, not wanting to hear what it was Casey had said to make Billy that nervous about relaying his message.

"He yelled that he was- was never going to visit you, that you were a murderer, at that he never wanted to hear your name again." It all came out in a rush, and Billy looked at me.

"I swear, I'll try to tell him you're innocent. I called him to ask his opinion, since I had left school before he told me, but I'm sure he's just confused."

Well, I'm not. I can't believe Casey wouldn't believe me, but there must be no doubt in his mind.

It must be that way, if Marissa lied about his initial reaction.

After Billy leaves, I sorta stare at the wall, like Sorci. I know once the truth comes out, Casey will believe me, but the idea that he thinks I would randomly try to kill someone makes me sick. Sick and angry. Why? Why think I did it? He hardly even knows Sorci.

Maybe he thinks that Sorci likes- liked Jeremie, so she would never hurt him. I mean, she has stood up for him in the past.

But is that reason enough for Casey to assume that I was an attempted murderer?

The rest of the day I sit, catatonically, staring at the wall.

When my friends come in, I tell them I don't feel like talking.

I really just wish Casey would come.

The next morning, I ask the person with my breakfast if a boy had asked to see me. She tells me no.

I'm not a crier, really. But, in some occasions, I just let lose the waterworks.

Being blamed for the stabbing of a schoolmate, knowing that his best friend really did it, being locked up in a cell, and knowing that my boyfriend doesn't believe me, is one of those occasions.

Lunch comes but I don't touch it. I just sit on the floor of my cell, leaning against the bars, eyes closed, tears slowly rolling down my face.

So it's no surprise that I don't hear the door outside open.

It's not until a police calls, "You have a visitor," that I open my eyes.

I recognize the shoes immediately.

Instantly I start crying harder.

"Please," I sob, "please believe me. I never touched him! I just called the police. Please. Please!"

Casey crouches down to where I'm sitting. He puts a finger under my chin and lifts until he's looking me in the tearstained eyes.

But I don't see the condemnation I expected to see.

All I see is concerned caring.

"Sammy," he whispers, gently, "how could you think I wouldn't blame you?"

I blink tears out of my eyes. "Billy said- B-Billy said that you said-"

He frowns, slightly irritated. "I **had** to say that. My mom was right next to me. If I so much as said anything to exonerate you, she would never let me out of her sight." He sighs. "I had to stay in the house. She actually forbade me to leave, so I got busy making phone calls. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." His voice drops to a whisper. "I have a, slightly convoluted, cover story, as to your- living situation."

I gasped. I had completely forgotten that my illegal living situation would pin blame on me.

"If you want, we can follow my story. But, I'd also understand if you wanted to come free from guilt."

I pause, thinking, tears forgotten. "Do you think you can pull it off."

Casey smiles for the first time since he entered, and his dark, chocolately eyes sparkled. "I had a conversation with a certain cop. He's not on this case, due to a 'conflict of interests', but he believes you completely. I told him my story, not that it a cover story, but I was able to bring up all aspects. To keep things professional, we never stated that you were involved, or that it was a lie, but it's of his opinion that, if everyone sticks to their parts, and if we can get everyone on board, my story should work. I've already called everyone I can think of, and told them the plan. They're on board. We just need your okay."

"Alright" I say slowly. "What's your plan."

"Alright, you and your mother have been living at Hudson's for a while. He's agreed to it, and since you hang out there enough, the neighbors shouldn't have a problem saying they've seen you around. Your mother 'works' out of town a lot, Meg and Vera have agreed that your mom does 'background work' at the Pup Parlor, like stocking shelves after it's closed and being an 'accountant' of sorts, and Andre says she sometimes works as a maid at the Heavenly. She also does unofficial jobs, like babysitting and dog walking."

I stare at him. "How are you going to back all that up? Did all these people really agree?"

Casey grins. "What did you think I was doing yesterday? Moping around? Mom just let me out of the house this afternoon. I've been burning up the lines. Anyway, Marissa has been doing a lot of shopping to find random 'Sammy' and 'Lana' stuff to stock your "rooms". Holly has moved all of your stuff from your apartment, and her Marissa and Dot have been sneaking them into Hudson's house, and working to make your rooms seem 'lived-in'."

I frown. "But Casey, how are you going to make this work? No one's seen Lady Lana around."

He shook his head, smiling. "Apparently Officer Borsch has. And so has Marissa, Dot, Billy, me, Holly, Meg and Vera. Also, your neighbor, Mrs. Wedgewood has 'seen' her visit your grandmother lots of times. Andre says she 'works' for him sometimes. Mrs. Keltner says you and her 'visit' the assisted living home where she works. Madame Nashira says she's 'come' to the House of Astrology once or twice. Dusty Mike's 'seen' her around the graveyard now and then, visiting graves." He grinned. "Even the Elvis Impersonator's 'seen' her shop at Maynard's sometimes. I called anyone I know you can trust and asked them to say a few things if they're asked. She was only out of town, because she was visiting her boyfriend," he grimaces, "my dad."

Wow. I am completely blown away. "You did all that, just to help me out."

"Sure," he says back. "It was the only way I felt I could help out."

"It's just, that's a lot of work."

He smiles at me. "You're totally worth it."

With that, his time is up and he leaves.

I just sit on my bed.

With such an amazing boyfriend, such incredible friends, a lot of work, and some luck, my life, just might, return to normal, as soon as Jeremie wakes up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

**Hey! Sorry about the looooooong wait. I had been busy on my other fics, and had been experiencing some writer's bloc on this (and by writer's bloc, I mean I had no idea what to do). So, anyway, this isn't great, and it's a little short, but I hope you like it, and I hope you review!**

The next morning I wake up to some good news.

The doors to the Cell Room open, right after breakfast, and in step two cops. My back is to them, I'm busy thinking.

"Alright convicts! I'm going to need each of you, one at a time, for interrogation," one of them says. I whip around at the familiar voice. My suspicions are confirmed. It's Squeaky and the Chick.

"Excuse me? Are you in charge of our case?"

The Chick nods, and Squeaky looks proud enough to burst out of his holster.

"Yes," he says. "Officer Scallfyg and I are running this case."

I nod. This actually helps us out. Officer Borsch has an incredible influence over these two inept cops. So long as the Borschman agrees to scoot my story along, it should be an easy sell.

"So," the Chick says, "who wants to go first."

There's a slight silence, before I volunteer myself. Might as well state my innocence as soon as possible.

"Alright!" Squeaky walks over with a ring of keys and unlocks my cell. He then clamps handcuffs over my hands so I don't try and overpower them and their guns and weapons with my thirteen-year-old strength.

They march me down a few halls, until we reach the Interrogation Room. It's pretty much a large closet with a hanging light and a chair.

Anyway, they lead me in and fasten me to a chair. Now, I'm dying to say something about the way I'm being treated. I know that basically everyone I know is protesting my innocence. I also know that Sorcianna's stony silence isn't saying much for her innocence, and neither is her lack of any real background. But I've ha a real bad history of being blamed for things I haven't done, so I decided to stay silent.

"Alright!" Said the Chick. "Where were you on Thursday the 18th of March at 12:34 PM?"

I blink. "At 12:34, I couldn't really say, but around the time you're asking? Eating lunch."

She nods grimly, or as grimly as one can manage with three-inch false eyelashes and to much green eyeshadow.

"How about ten minutes later?" Squeaky asks.

I let out a choppy breath. "At around 12:45 I made a call to the ambulance." I remembered the time precisely, it had burned into my mind after I read it on the cell phone just before I made my call. "So, I guess you could say that the minute before I was probably checking out the janitor's closet that-" I catch my breath, the memory still burned white in my mind. "-that I found Jeremie in."

The Chick nods. She whispers something to Squeaky, but her somewhat nasally, high voice make it easy for me to hear what she's saying, "The times she stated are the same that the 911 operator said she got the call."

Well, duh. The call wasn't the point of dispute. But it seems to give Squeaky some confidence in my innocence, because he turns to me and says,

"You do realize that until we have come to a consensus, we have to keep all possible suspects here. Unfortunately, due to some, erm, difficulties with the processing of this case, we are unable to bring this matter to the courts, so we are going to have to work things out on a more local level. We are contacting your individual parents as we speak."

They ask me a few more questions, and I tell them everything I know about Sorci and her random attack. They then bring me back to my cell.

They then ask Sorci to accompany them to the Interrogation Closet. I watch them drag her out, and then Marissa and Casey enter.

"Hey," I call.

They walk over. "Did you know that Squeaky and the Chick are on this case?" Marissa whispers. "They are so incompetent!"

I sigh. "Yeah, I know. They just interrogated me." I tell them about my little conversation in the Interrogation Closet.

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Marissa asks. "If they think you're innocent, and it ends up being up to them, you'll be out of here in no time!"

Casey, however, frowns. "What did they mean, no hearing. Isn't it your constitutional rights to get a hearing? It just…"

"Feels wrong?" I supply.

"Yeah. They should be able to bring this to court. There shouldn't be difficulties."

I sigh. "I know, but you what? I don't really care. So long as I'm exonerated, I'm happy."

Marissa nods. "I'm with Sammy on this. Who **cares** whether it goes to court? This is probably just a case of Santa Martina being Santa Martina."

"Maybe." Casey doesn't seem convinced.

Just then, the door to the Cell Room opens and the two cops come back in, a mute Sorci in tow.

"Could you get anything out of her?" I ask.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you that," Squeaky informs me, but I can see the answer in his eyes.

A big fat no.

As they leave, Casey gives me a smile. "You're probably right. With her silence, and, of course, the fact that they're about to call her nonexistent parents… Well, you should be free soon." I smile at him through the bars, and he smiles back. I'm thinking how lucky I am to have a boyfriend like Casey, when his phone rings.

He picks up. His eyes get wider and wider and soon **I** can hear the words being yelled at him. "I'm not-" His words are cut off as the phone hangs up.

"Heather?" I ask. He nods.

"I don't know how she knows I'm here." He sighs. "I gotta get home. Fingers crossed I can get someone to cover me." He leaves quickly.

Marissa shakes her head. "If Heather keeps down this path, well, she's doing her best to convict you."

I shake my head. "They'll look into our past. No way can they take anything she says seriously. Heather's the biggest problem, but even **she** can't stop Jeremie from confessing once he wakes up."

Little did I know, that Heather was the least of my problems.

.

That afternoon, the Chick comes back, frowning.

"We've had some interesting conversations with both of your parents," she says to us. "It would appear that both of your girls' parents believe you innocent. Now, that's not unusual…"

What she says after that seems to fade away. I **know** that Sorci has no parents. I **know **it. But the Chick just told me that she talked to Sorci's parents.

"Jeremie's parents also believe that it was Sammy who committed the crime, because they know Sorcianna." She examines us. "Either of you have any confessions to make?" Neither of us say anything. She nods. "Alright then, we're continuing with our investigation." She turns and leaves.

I just sit on my bed, thinking. Something's not matching up. What I know: Sorci is an orphan who lives alone, she and Jeremie have just met recently and have never met before.

What the Chick knows: Sorci lives with her parents, Sorci's parents have known Jeremie for years.

Someone's lying. Either Sorci was lying to me, or someone's covering for her by pretending to be her mother or father. Though I can't understand what self-respecting adult would cover for a disturbed 13 year-old, aspiring murderer.

I'm jerked from my thoughts by Dot's entrance.

"Sammy!" She calls. "Marissa told me about the interrogation."

I nod, and, quickly and quietly, fill her in on what had happened since, about Sorci's 'parents'.

She then offers to do some snooping, to see what she can uncover.

Well, I have to laugh at that. I mean, how many times have been the one snooping, with whichever friend I dragged along, begging to go back.

"Thanks Dot. If I can figure out more about what's going on, then I can better assess my situation.

After that she leaves, and I'm left back to my thoughts. This is appearing to be more complicated then I had initially thought.

If only I knew how much more complicated it was going to get.


End file.
